


First

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-16
Updated: 2003-04-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray recalls some memorable "firsts".





	First

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
First

## First

by Ardent

Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/ardent_muses/

Disclaimer: I don't own Fraser or Ray and, sadly, I make no money when I write smut about them. Imagine that! 

Author's Notes: Thanks to Betty, Kalena, Kellie and Purna for wonderful, helpful beta. Yes, I did need four betas on a story this size. I'm making up for all the people who don't use them at all. *G* 

Story Notes: 

* * *

**FIRST**

The first time they kissed was on the sofa at Ray's apartment with some giraffe documentary blaring from the television and peppermint all over them from the candy cane factory explosion. Too tired and cold to clean themselves up yet, they had settled on the sofa with newspaper spread out to keep the syrup off the upholstery. 

Ray had just come back from the kitchen with a cup of tea for Fraser and a beer for himself, and he sat down and reached for the remote control to turn off the goddamned giraffes and that was when it happened. 

Thinking about it later, Ray decided that they had fallen into it the way someone trips over a crack in the sidewalk. Like, if one of them had had the presence of mind to put out a hand and say, "whoa" or "whoops, almost put my mouth on yours there," then it could have all gone a different way. They might have laughed about it. But, as it was, there they were, and they were both tired, so nobody said "whoa" and then Ray was feeling the soft, hot pressure of Fraser's mouth against his. 

That felt good, and it wasn't only surprise that led Ray to open his mouth and touch his tongue, tentatively, to Fraser's. They both groaned, then, and he slid his arms around Fraser's shoulders, pulling him closer. He tasted peppermint and he felt Fraser's hands stroking up and down his spine and moving gently in his sticky hair. 

* * *

The first time they had sex was about five minutes later. There was a crunchy rattle of newspaper and a thud, and suddenly they were clutching and grinding each other on the floor in front of the TV instead of on the sofa. Which was okay, really, because Fraser was doing some amazingly clever things with his hands that might have been uncomfortable if they hadn't both been lying down. Yeah, Ray wasn't willing to trade things around now, not when it was getting, well, not so much interesting as _bizarre_. But bizarre in a hot, do-that-again kind of way. 

The giraffe show was still on, and when the narrator started explaining about the giraffe gently nudging, sniffing and licking his mate before mounting, a crazy part of Ray's brain wondered whether Fraser had done this before or whether he was taking instructions from the Discovery Channel. 

Who really cared, though, when Fraser had moved up to Ray's mouth again and was kissing him with his flexible upper lip and prehensile tongue? 

What did prehensile mean, anyway? 

The first time he felt Fraser's mouth on him, Ray cried out too loudly and came almost immediately, shuddering and groaning. He felt totally humiliated by his lack of staying power until he looked down at the front of Fraser's jeans and saw the wet spot. 

There wasn't a lot of time to be embarrassed in any case because, after a few moments of heavy breathing there on the floor, Fraser had hauled himself up to his feet, hauled Ray onto the sofa again, and hauled ass out the door. 

If it hadn't been for the mug of tea cooling on the side table and the relaxed and tingly feeling in Ray's groin -- not to mention the newspaper stuck to his ass -- it might have all been a dream. A sticky, minty dream. 

With giraffes. 

* * *

The first time Ray thought about how it would be if he lost Fraser was at the Chicago Boat Show. 

Oh, he'd thought about losing Fraser before. He'd thought about losing him as a friend or losing him as a partner or even, God, losing him period, but they had been having sex for a couple of weeks at this point, and Ray hadn't ever thought about how that was going to end. 

Why should it? It had seemed like a pretty stable arrangement, so far. Fraser was his partner at work every day, his best friend at dinner every night, and then, after dinner, his best friend turned into the guy who rubbed and jerked and sucked him until he came hard enough to qualify as a religious experience. 

Yeah. It was a pretty good arrangement. Neither of them had any expectations and Ray had no complaints. Why think about tomorrow? 

At the boat show, they were looking for Sammy "The Boat" LaRue, a low-level crime boss with a weakness for bass fishing and chicks in swimsuits. Fraser had the idea that they should interview the women who were stationed around each of the boats, and Ray hadn't objected. The fact that the women happened to be gorgeous hadn't hurt either. 

Fraser took one side of the aisle and Ray started on the other, with a tall, green-eyed brunette. She didn't remember seeing anything suspicious, and she'd only started work there the day before, but she really liked Ray's bracelet and she wanted to get a closer look at it. No, Ray didn't mind at all. Look all you want. 

As she lifted his hand in hers, Ray looked over to see how his best friend was digging his way with the ladies. 

And Fraser was not digging it at all. 

Arctic eyes. Mouth fixed in a firm line. A small twitch in the jaw muscle. Suddenly, Ray realized that the guy who sucked his dick every night had a few expectations after all. Ray didn't want to think about what his life might be like if.... 

He thanked the brunette hastily and moved on to the next potential witness. 

That night, Ray put a little more effort into everything he did. He made Fraser a cup of tea just the way he liked it, without bitching about how tea bags were so much easier. He called the take-out place and ordered the weird Chinese food Fraser liked -- the stuff that had ingredients Ray couldn't identify. And hey, if you didn't look too closely, it wasn't half bad. 

Then he took Fraser into the bedroom and pushed him back on the bed and unlaced the boots all by himself. It took a while, and Fraser was practically asleep by the time he was finished, but he didn't give up and ask for help. 

He crawled up and finished undressing them both, and then he kissed Fraser for a long time, the way Fraser really liked it. He kissed him until Fraser was panting and squirming underneath him, but he wouldn't let Fraser go down on him the way he usually did. This time he licked a line down Fraser's throat and chest, enjoying the taste of salt and the sound of Fraser gasping and groaning and, instead of using his hand, he sucked Fraser's cock into his mouth for the first time. 

Fraser's taste satisfied a curiosity Ray hadn't even known he had, and it turned him on something fierce. He didn't know what he was doing -- it wasn't as easy as it looked -- but Fraser seemed to appreciate it, although he wasn't able to speak in complete sentences. He sounded grateful, anyway. 

The neighbors probably thought so too. 

That was the first time they slept all night in the same bed 

* * *

The first time Ray knew for sure Fraser was crazy was the night he heard him having a conversation with someone who wasn't there. 

Ray had fallen asleep after yet another mind-blowing orgasm, but he woke up to the sound of Fraser whispering in the dark. Damn, Ray thought, if the guy was still talking, he obviously hadn't done his job right. But before he reached out, he realized what Fraser was saying. 

"No, I don't think you get a vote. This is not a democracy. It's my life. I didn't get to vote on the way you lived your life, did I?" 

Pause. 

"Yes, you are my father. Or, you _were_ my father. And your point would be....?" 

Pause. 

"So grandchildren are your only concern here? Not my happiness? What a surprise _that_ is." 

Pause. 

"Ah. Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that you're so open-minded. Congratulations. Now, if you have no objections, I'll go to sleep. I'd prefer to talk about this when I'm more awake. Just because you don't need sleep any more doesn't mean _I_ don't. 

Pause. 

"Okay. Good night, Dad." 

By this point, Ray's eyes were as wide as saucers, and he was as wired as if he'd drunk a pot of espresso with a couple of bags of M &Ms in it. It was one thing to have sex with a freak. It was completely another to have sex with a freak who saw -- and talked with -- dead people. 

But when Fraser turned over and put his head on Ray's shoulder and slid his arm around Ray's waist, it didn't really seem that important. On balance, this was still a pretty sweet deal for Ray, so he turned slightly and slid his arm around Fraser, who gave a satisfied sigh and went right to sleep in Ray's arms. 

* * *

The first time Ray saw Fraser cry was after they arrested a father for beating his two little girls to death. 

It happened later that night, at Ray's apartment, after they'd booked the guy and written up all the reports. Ray had been ranting and raving about it, like he always did, and expecting Fraser to be the calm, logical, soothing one, like he always was, and then suddenly Ray looked up and saw that Fraser was convulsed -- bent half over, and holding himself as if he was afraid his chest would explode if he let go. 

"Fraser? What's wrong?" Ray asked, grabbing Fraser by the shoulders, and shuffling him over to an armchair. When Fraser sat, Ray slid down between his knees, and that's when he saw the tears on Fraser's face. He reached up to wipe them away, but more kept coming. 

"What's wrong?" Ray kept asking, stupidly, as if he didn't know already. As if Fraser was going to tell him he'd eaten a bad piece of pemmican. As if Fraser was going to tell him it was something Ray had the power to fix. 

Ray had never seen anyone suffer like that -- not because of the case, but because the case made him cry. 

It hurt him. It hurt Fraser to cry. 

Jesus. 

* * *

The first time they kissed without it leading to sex was in the car one Saturday. They had taken Dief to the vet, who had never treated a wolf before, but was pretty sure he was okay. He wanted Dief to lay off the Cheetos, though. 

Anyway, they were coming back from the vet, and Ray had said something about how Fraser was over there all the time, and it would make a lot more sense for Fraser to just move in. They stopped at a light, and Ray reached down to change the radio station and, when he looked up, Fraser was sitting there staring at him with a weird look on his face. 

"I mean. If you want to," said Ray. 

Fraser kind of nodded and they both kind of leaned in and they were kissing. 

Then the light changed. 

Later that day, they went over to the consulate and packed up Fraser's stuff, which took maybe fifteen minutes. 

That night, Ray woke up and heard Fraser whispering again, and he almost panicked, but then he heard "the reticulated giraffe lives mainly...." 

Ray smiled and rolled over onto Fraser and they looked into each other's eyes between kisses, while they moved together, rubbing and sliding, panting and gasping, until Ray couldn't stand it anymore and came so hard he saw stars. The wet heat must have triggered Fraser's orgasm because, half a second later, Ray felt Fraser arching and spurting beneath him. 

That time, they didn't even bother to clean up. Just wiped themselves up a little bit with the sheet, and then they curled up and went to sleep again. 

And that was the first time they made love. 

* * *

Feedback will be cherished at 

* * *

End First by Ardent:

Author and story notes above.


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